The Frighteners (1996)

Each week, the magazine "Entertainment Weekly" includes a blurb in
their movie section which compares the opinions of several national
critics. Their ratings are averaged and compared to the weekly
results of an audience exit poll. Not surprisingly, the public
tends thinks more of most movies than the critics do. One of the
explanations for this might involve the concept of popular versus
critical opinion. I won't go down *that* road. Another likely
reason is the simple fact that most people want to enjoy what they
pay for, even if they don't really like it. Think about that. Add
in the price of popcorn, plus the investment of time required to
wait in traffic, wait in the lobby, and wait for the trailers to
end, and you're stuck in a situation where the only alternative to
feeling good about a movie, is to feel shame for the wasted effort.
For this reason, I presume that most folks will *not* be walking
out of THE FRIGHTENERS, a failed supernatural comedy that is nearly
unwatchable for the first thirty minutes.
The beginning is the worst-- a sloppy, incoherent mess that shows
such silliness as a woman (Dee Wallace Stone) being chased through
an old mansion by special-effects induced apparitions, a short
"psychic investigator" (Michael J. Fox) attempting to crash a
funeral, and that same person later careening down a hill in an
out-of-control jalopy. Huh? Is bad driving what New Zealand
director Peter Jackson (HEAVENLY CREATURES) thinks is funny to us
Americans? Next comes the appearance of a floating Elvis statue--
"he lives," utters an unbeliever-- and the discovery that Fox's
character is a con man, thankyouverymuch. Though he really *can*
see the spooks, he's actually on fairly friendly terms with them.
They help him scare up business. Of course, nobody in the small
coastal town is particularly fazed by these ghoulish goings-on.
Maybe they've seen GHOSTBUSTERS a few too many times, but the
residents sure take their psychic investigator in stride. Just as
they seem unfazed by a recent rash of inexplicable deaths...
Mercifully, the movie gets (a bit) better as it goes. The human
element is execrable, but a clever cast of Caspers often amuses.
Chi McBride is funny as a jive-talking spirit still wearing bell-
bottoms. That's John Astin under make-up as the (literally) jaw-
dropping Judge; he has some salacious fun with an Egyptian mummy.
Also look for a memorable appearance by R. Lee Ermey, reprising his
FULL METAL JACKET role as a deceased drill instructor. I rather
enjoyed all the oppressive imagery of death and decay. You may
want to leave the younger ones at home, though, as the rotting
corpses and dusty skeletons may send them screaming into the lobby.
Heh, heh. A macabre finale, set inside of an abandoned hospital,
is the high-point of this low movie. Jackson cross-cuts between
the present (Fox and Trini Alvarado in peril) and the past (Jake
Busey as a mass-murdering orderly) and it's a grisly gas. With
exploding heads and carved foreheads, the sequence might even have
been scary, if the rest of the movie hadn't so completely dulled
our senses. (Rated "R"/106 min.)
Grade: C+
Copyright 1996 by Michael J. Legeros